


Charmed

by Philosophizes



Series: Bad Decisions Series Backstory Fics [10]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adults, Children, Gen, Humans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:30:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosophizes/pseuds/Philosophizes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every day, England goes to the same coffee shop- for a very special reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charmed

Irene Walker lives a charmed life.  
  
She’s never been quite sure _why;_ she just knows that she never ever once forgot her homework when she was little, even when she was sure she’d left it on the table at home, and that whenever there’s a cold going around she doesn’t have to worry about catching it, and that she can walk across a road with her eyes closed through traffic with a green light and not get hit _once_ (she tried, one time, for a dare. That was the day she swore never to trust her luck, or people to not do something stupid when she told them about it, again).  
  
She also always seems to meet the right people at the right time, no matter what the circumstances, so even though she’s a college graduate slaving away at corner café in Birmingham because of the current employment rates (not really, actually, the café was only ever busy enough to turn a nice profit and was otherwise usually quiet enough that the staff could spare a minute or so to chat with each other, or the regulars, often enough to keep up a conversation of small talk, and she was _still_ getting paid better than all her friends who were doing similar jobs just down the street) dreaming of the day when she could finally put that culinary school degree to work and either join a five-star restaurant or start her own coffee shop/bakery/café/bookstore (maybe both? Her shop could be the best in the world! Her pastries famed across civilization-) she’s not too worried yet. Her luck will pull through eventually, and even if it doesn’t she still has a carefully-compiled list of contacts that could get her something kind-of-sort-of close, or at least on her way to getting there.  
  
Irene figures she’ll give it another, oh, five months. If nothing happens, she’s out of here and back to Southampton.  
  
One of the regulars comes in for his morning bread-rolls-and-tea (he’s been a regular so long, in fact, that the café started ordering a second newspaper subscription, _just for him._ He always, _always_ overpays and tips insanely, so they can afford it) and Irene bustles over with the fresh-baked bread and tea that the kitchen knows to put on now, puts it on the table, says:  
  
“Here you go, Mr. Kirkland,” like she always does.  
  
And he says:  
  
“Perfect, as always. Thank you,” like he always does.  
  
And Irene goes back to the café counter where people will sit on the bar stools sometimes, later in the day, and sneak gin or beer into their coffee and have to be chased out, and waits for her next customer.

* * *

Arthur Kirkland knows his daughter leads a charmed life.  
  
He makes _sure_ of it.  
  
He didn’t keep her, _couldn’t_ keep her, not with his track record on families, he wouldn’t let himself- but he can do this much for her.  
  
That’s why he strengthens the magical wards he’s built up around her continuously, every day since she was born, even if she didn’t know it, just a little as he sips the last of his tea and checks to make sure his crumbs haven’t left a mess on the table.  
  
That’s why he leaves ten extra pounds on the table in payment for the food, and bumps the tip up twenty percent over the recommended amount.  
  
That’s why, as he walks out and brushes past the very nice young intern at the regional office he recommended this café to earlier in the week, he snaps- a couple of magical sparks drift off into the air, and his daughter and the intern both look to where they _think_ the sound came from-  
  
-and their eyes meet across the room.  
  
England tucks his paper under one arm, and walks off down the road.


End file.
